Signs You Are Old

It's totally inevitable. Try as I might to evade and avoid it the reality is I am getting older.  Not you! - the reader.  You are still young and fabulous, no doubt. I speak only of myself.  And to prove my point I offer the following, overwhelming evidence.

I own an old people stock
It takes a certain mindset (associated with aging) to find yourself searching stocks by dividend yield percentages. You realize that you're about to purchase a stock where management can't think of anything better to do with their hard fought gains than to give them back to the investors.  The type of management (and company) that would have been anathema to invest in up to now.  And then, your brain clicks and it seems like a dandy idea. I'm there. 

Yep.  I bought (and retain) my first 'dividend stock'.  Purchased to get that dividend payment every quarter.  And to sit around talking to other old people about it; comparing it to their dividend stocks.

Well, put the coffee pot on; I'm ready to join the conversation.

I hear about what a crappy driver I am far too often
If it were true it would be worse. Still, listening to people that have crashed and destroyed cars (at much younger ages than I am at I might add) express concerns about my driving abilities is a disconcerting indicator that I must be getting older.  Can everyone be wrong?

I will say publicly that I do not want to be that old person whose keys are taken away far later than would have assured society a solid chance at survival. I would hope I possess the humility to accept the natural decay of my abilities with grace.  But if I'm not, please do your duty and pry them from my bony fingers.

Before that time, however, please allow me to assure you.  I always get to where I am going whether or not I drive an optimum path to get there.  And, growing up I came by a certain degree of vigilance the hard way - and have always, and continue to endeavor to avoid receiving or administering harm. So be kind to the old guy.

I own an adjustable bed frame
Further, to support the supposition that I am getting old I offer this:  I just recently purchased an adjustable bed frame.

Tell me you've never visited a parent or grandparent in the hospital and coveted one of these beauties! I readily admit I have. Today they're not just for patients - they're for pre-patients too!  And, it came with a 20 year warranty so I can enjoy the benefits of acid-reflux free bed lounging for years to come.  Restless leg syndrome?  Hah! A thing of the past!

Two out of three ain't bad
I like the dividend checks and my pre-patient bed status; although I could live without the driving critics. Or, to summarize using the words of the 1977 classic Meatloaf ballad - "Two out of three ain't bad".

Which brings me to my final point.  When you summarize your life using 1970's music lyrics... you might be old.

Timeline

We all measure time in different ways.  Some measure it minute-by-minute as they anxiously try to get a tired child to sleep at night or wait for the arrival of a loved one after a period of separation.  Some measure time hour-by-hour - as they slog through another day at work; just hanging on till quitting time.  Some measure it month-by-month as they plan and count down to that special day they have longed for their whole lives.

I realized this morning that one way I measure time is season-by-season.  The coffee mugs that adorn my office tell that story.  My timeline progresses from left to right in the picture below. 

First, was a generic red coffee mug I must have picked up at Crate and Barrel or some place like that.  The mug was purchased shortly after taking my most recent job years ago.  It features a huge capacity - which was required to keep my caffeine levels high while I chased my kids through high school and college.

The second mug is like an old friend to me.  It is a Guinness mug, purchased in Ireland while we visited Joel as he was studying abroad. It reminds me daily of Joel. When I look at that white band around the rim and the deep caramel color I can't help but smile as I recall sitting in a pub in Galway Ireland while sharing a bittersweet glass as he regaled me with stories of his adventures there. It warms my spirit to have it around.

The third mug is a visual reminder of my red-headed spitfire daughter. It is big - like her personality; a metaphor for her endless potential, and has served me well for the last few years. This mug has been the impetus for a thousand questions (e.g., 'did you go to Cal?') and provides me endless opportunities to dote on my daughter with my colleagues and customers.

And finally, this is the newest mug on my unique timeline:

I purchased this mug over the Christmas break in Ann Arbor, Michigan when I returned to my alma mater to watch a women's basketball game and hang with my future son-in-law's family. This mug is just the perfect size and its shape - jutting out at the rim - makes it feel so comfortable in my hand.

This mug represents a juxtaposition of old and new;  my past and my present. Going back to this place stirred up strong emotions for me. This was the place I worked hard to receive an education that would form the basis of my professional life. It was the place I cheered my beloved Wolverines; watching them vanquish all foes.  It was the place I proposed to my lovely wife of 30 years after an exciting win over Notre Dame.  It was the place I bought my first personal computer. It was the place Julie and I first lived as a married couple. It was the place we left to embark together on an unknown life in California. And this was the place God placed and prepared my future son-in-law so that he could meet Hannah during a summer internship at Stryker Endoscopy in San Jose, California.

Yes,  I look at that hot cup of coffee and it serves as a poignant  reminder of the hours and hours I spent working to pay my way through college - and studying to create a future for myself.  Believe me - I drank a lot of coffee to get through those lean years and sleepless nights.  Those years formed a solid base for the rest of my life.

But after I filled it this morning with piping hot coffee - it was the wisps of steam that caught my attention; dancing just above the liquid for a moment and then rising to disperse. The present is fleeting. It is like vapor - here for a moment - then escaping into the wind - never to be experienced again.  My hope is that this mug keeps me focused on that reality; grounded in the past but focused on the present.